


By The Grace Of God, Tell Me You Won't Drink Again

by thegirlwholoveshorror



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Darkness Around The Heart, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, POV Jensen, Relapsing, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 10:12:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15216905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwholoveshorror/pseuds/thegirlwholoveshorror
Summary: ALCOHOLISM ~ noun. 'an addiction to the consumption of alcoholic liquor or the mental illness and compulsive behavior resulting from alcohol dependency.' (online encyclopedia)*rejected story/Used to be part of myDon't Stop Smoking & Drinking Verse*





	By The Grace Of God, Tell Me You Won't Drink Again

> I guess whoever said "the grass is greener"  
>  Must have never seen the other side  
>  "What don't kill you makes you stronger"  
>  Sure sounds like a lie  
>  And whoever said that "time heals everything,  
>  And everything will be alright?"  
>  Whoever said "it ain't the end of the world,  
>  And you'll find somebody new"  
>  Must've never met you— Luke Combs;  _Must've never met you_

 

July 9 2018

Now, let's have an open discussion about Jensen and his history of alcoholism.

It's something ugly, something shameful. There is nothing beautiful about this part of the story, just blatant **savagery**.

Most people don't want to talk about it—let alone understand it— because it's a subject of tremendous confusion and conflict, but sometimes we must face it, and this is one of those times.

People always talk about the harm that alcoholism will do to your body, your relationships and your career and financial health.

What they often don't mention—perhaps because they don't consider it to be important enough— is that the harm that it does to your mental health is a million times worse than the rest of it.

Jensen's never been to an AA meeting in his life or sought help to overcome his alcohol dependency with a specialist of any kind—much to the dismay of his psychologist years later—, but here's what he's been made aware of over time and purely on a need-to-know basis: it's what he's learnt throughout the trials and tribulations of his life as he's gotten himself through this _nightmare_ of a problem on his own, now with the never fading memory of the days when he was in withdrawal from the bottle—which he was forced into, actually, after his family found out about his disgusting habit and hung him out to dry, like a pair of dirty old sneakers really. If it wasn't for their tough parenting though, Jensen probably would have drank himself to death, a heartbroken fool, lost in love and dying to be heard or saved or loved, which is _strange_.

And, on the side of his family—in simple and real terms, a bunch of silly stupid rednecks—, they would always be dying to put him back in his place... However, we'll get to that part later! It's just not a part of Jensen's history that he likes to remember and not one that he ever intends to discuss with anyone, save perhaps a psychologist, but it's something that'll have to be discussed later.

Jensen knows _this_ better than anyone now: alcohol is not the answer. After all, he abused the bottle for so long, back when he smoked a pack of cigarettes a day, thinking it was a solution and not a problem, or just something to do, so much that it became not only a physical addition, but a psychological one too, something that Jensen hadn't expected and wasn't prepared for as he had thought at the start that it would only help him get through his lonely nights, or delay or put an end to the inevitable, until it punched him in the face with consequences. Regardless of the how, like a hurricane with all its **terrors** , it had swept him up and thrown him into even further into the shitstorm that he'd created with his life, with brutal force and without mercy— and, before he could even realize what was happening, it was too late as he was drowning, the worst of him coming to play, leaving him feel overexposed and violated in ways you can't imagine as every day felt like always like his last. 

He had tried hard to escape his depression back then by drinking himself into a coma every night in order to forget that he was alone and _what he had done_ , but all he did was make it so much worse as alcohol in itself has a depressor effect. It got the best of him and killed his spirit until all that was left of him was his long-term alcohol misuse: the kiss of death, like lying in a muddy open grave on a rainy day.

 ** _Enough said_** , everything he was and everything he did was on the rocks, always trying to convince himself and everybody that there's nothing going wrong, his tears the only evidence of his bled out heart, as he felt toxic fear, shame and guilt to do with his consumption, namely.

Now that Jensen was living on his own again though, in an apartment on the outskirts of New York City, he was worried that his darkness would again return and that he would relapse... Sometimes he felt as though he was standing on the edge of a very high cliff, staring down at the waves hit the rocks, wondering if he should jump or not, imagining himself soaring like a bird in the sky as he went down. Maybe it makes Jensen _pathetic_. Maybe it makes him _weak._ Maybe it makes him _wrong..._ Or maybe it just means that he needs _help,_ the kind of help that not only relieves you of your pain in the moment, but prevents future crises from happening and keeps you alive. It was the kind of help that lasts forever that Jensen needed now. Things were looking up for him now that he had his own place and a career kicking off, but he needed it to stay that way.

God save his soul, he would stop _it_ before it got too far; he would stop himself from falling over backwards and right into old bad habits.

He would find a way to put the bottle down and irreparably never go in again for _that_ stolen taste...

Jensen's inner voice pleaded for him to toss this poison away from his life and his home. He scolded himself for his treacherous appetite for drink and sloth and cried in desperation as he hated himself for his uncharitable thoughts. Could he _really_ be saved this time? What was happening? Was it really starting all over again? Jensen didn't trust himself. It was so easy to just pick up a bottle of this or that every night on his way home from another day of work... It felt like his scars were going to break open, as though they were slowly tearing open, like any piece of raw meat...

Jensen was scared of himself and what could happen. He was desperate for relief. How would he gain control of himself? There was a darkness inside of him, and he was unsure of how to be, of how to fight it... It seemed like he was on the fast track for disaster **_all over again_**...

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware that this is a very dark installment, but this is a dark story, and this part of it does set the course for the rest of the story's narrative. Jensen has RL problems, and his "happily ever after" will not come easy.


End file.
